


The Dark Times: The 25th Hunger Games

by MoonlightSalsa



Series: The Victor With 23 Faces [5]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, District Five (Hunger Games), Other, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightSalsa/pseuds/MoonlightSalsa
Summary: She was never one to put up with other people's bullshit. And she certainly wasn't going to bow to her district partner's whims.
Series: The Victor With 23 Faces [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692511
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

When the Quell twist was announced, the Career districts promptly began voting for the strongest warriors the Academies could produce. It was considered an honor to be voted for. It was an opportunity to make your district proud. 

In the outlying districts, however, the citizens saw it as an opportunity to get rid of any notorious young criminals that were making their lives a misery. To be voted for meant that your own district actively wanted you dead, which was a tough pill to swallow. 

In District Five, this was only true for the male tribute slot. Many in the district silently but unanimously agreed to vote for an eighteen-year-old who was a known rapist, and a smug, self-assured one at that. Even though he knew everyone was out for his blood, he still infuriatingly insisted that they wouldn't actually get rid of him. They knew he never did anything wrong - he only ever had a bit of fun with those girls. And even if he did go into the Games, he would win, easy-peasy. 

The selection for the female tribute slot, however, wasn't so clear-cut. There were no real stand-outs for “bitch of the year” so everyone just voted for whoever they didn't like. 

As such, the results were very close. There was only a three vote difference between the winner and the next-highest number. The lucky girl who would be Five’s female tribute was a seventeen-year-old named Electra Harter. 

Electra was a cordial person, but not someone you'd describe as _nice._ She had a constant resting bitch face, a glare that would have put the late President Parkan to shame, and an extremely low tolerance for other people’s bullshit. All of these manifested in her personality as irritability, a sharp tongue, and a nice healthy dose of vengefulness to round it all out. 

Needless to say, she was not popular among her peers. 

But she wasn't so hated that the district all banded together in order to get rid of her, like they had with her district partner. No. Those who had chosen her name only did so because they had to pick someone, so they went with the one who had personally wronged them in some way. They didn't think that she'd actually get sent into the Games. 

But that's exactly what ended up happening. The escort announced Electra’s name, and she walked up to the stage and scowled at the crowd. A tall, thin girl with creamy skin and reddish-brown curls, and clothed in a slightly ratty black lace dress, she was quite pretty. Her district partner leered at her, licking his lips. 

When they shook hands at the escort’s request, Pietro Sparks grinned hungrily at her. Electra fixed him with a cold, hard glare. 

~*~ 

Her family came to visit her, say goodbye, and all that stuff. She made some vague promise to return home, yadda yadda yadda. 

But she wasn't thinking about that on the train. Instead, she was more focused on keeping Pietro as far away from her as possible. The ugly bastard wouldn't stop trying to inch closer to her, even after Mara and Isaac tried to stop him from doing so. 

Electra didn't even really remember what she saw during the reaping recaps after dinner, because she had to continuously keep one eye on Pietro, and the other eye on the nearest exit. 

And when she went to bed, her body slept but her mind did not. It was constantly alert, ready to jolt the rest of her body into action if need be. One hand was under her pillow, wrapped around the three knives that she'd smuggled out of the dining carriage, just in case. 

Isaac did not sleep that night. Instead, he stayed in an armchair from which he could see both Electra and Pietro’s doors. If Pietro tried anything, he would stop him. He sat watching the dark hallway until his eyes burned and watered at the same time. 

His head drooped as his eyes shut, but he suddenly snapped back into high alert when he heard the click of a door opening. Down the hallway, a large dark figure very quietly made its way along, stopping with one hand on the knob of Electra’s door. 

“Pietro,” Isaac thundered, “go to bed.” 

His voice left little room for argument. Knowing he could no longer try anything without some form of intervention, Pietro turned around and crept back to bed. 

Isaac’s head didn't droop for the rest of the night. 

~*~ 

The next morning, the Five tributes were separated for preparation for the parade. Electra was glad for it. She welcomed the opportunity to not have to constantly be on guard every second of the day. Even if those damn Capitolites that made up her prep team were super annoying and chatty. 

The reprieve didn't last very long. That night they were forced back together. Electra’s skin crawled at the thought of having to stand right next to him on the chariot. 

Pietro seemed to sense her discomfort. “Don't be shy, Electra,” he said with a smile, “I'll let you hold my hand if you get nervous.” 

Electra gagged. “I’d rather jump off a bridge.” 

Pietro tutted. “There's no need to be so rude. I'm only trying to be nice.” 

“Yeah, you're a real charmer, all right.” 

Then the announcement came to board the chariots. Electra swallowed and tried to stand as far away from him as humanly possible. He responded by standing very close to her, not moving away at all. Not even a little bit. 

As their chariot rolled out before the crowds around them, Pietro suddenly grabbed hold of Electra’s hand. She gasped and wrenched her hand away immediately. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” 

Pietre feigned an innocent expression. “I was just doing it for the cameras.” 

Electra scoffed. “Yeah. Sure you were.” 

She would much rather be anywhere else than here. Even in a coffin underground. Even in the pit of a reactor. Even in her school’s principal’s office. Anywhere was better than here. 

He scared her. She could admit that much. She'd heard many stories about what he'd done to girls he managed to corner. And he was absolutely determined to do the same to her. To “have some fun”. Fucking gross. 

Well, she sure as hell wasn't going to let that happen. She wasn't going to let herself be cornered. She wasn't going to get herself into a vulnerable situation of. 

And even if she did, she was going to fight like a rabid animal. 

It was at that very moment, when she reassured herself of her resolution, when she felt his hand slide down her back and grab a handful of her ass. 

With no hesitation, she backhanded him, sending him spinning off the chariot. He fell to the ground with a satisfying thud, narrowly avoiding getting trampled by the horses pulling Six’s carriage. The crowd gasped at the confrontation. 

Electra smirked. Then her face hardened. 

She knew that that wasn't going to make him give up so easily. She knew that that would only make him angrier, and definitely more determined as well. 

The only way to put an end to this once and for all would be to kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

Electra busied herself in training, trying her hand at all sorts of activities: plant and bug identification, fire-starting, knot-tying. She was hard at work, trying to study up on as many survival skills as possible. 

But she had to come up with some impromptu survival skills of her own in order to avoid Pietro’s stalking presence. For example, she never took her eyes off of him for very long. Every second that she wasn't watching him was an opportunity for him to creep closer to her. 

She changed stations frequently to stay away from him, having to sacrifice her learning time so that she wouldn't be caught in his clutches. 

And after a while, when Pietro turned his gaze onto the girls from One and Two, Electra silently went to the climbing course, climbed to the very top, and stayed up there, out of sight, for as long as possible. 

During mealtimes, Mara and Isaac sat between their tributes, keeping them separated. And during the rest of the night, Isaac kept guard outside of Electra’s door. 

Electra could steadily feel her temper rising. How dare Pietro act like this? How dare that bastard think that he can get away with all this? How dare he act like he's all that? 

On the second day of training, Electra was hiding at the very top of the climbing wall. She lay flat on her stomach, twiddling her thumbs, when she started to tune in to a conversation down below. It was Pietro, sitting at the fire-starting station, chatting to the nearly-as-vile boy from Eight. They were talking about which of the female tributes they'd like to have. Fuckers, the both of them. Disgusting. 

Electra cautiously peered over the edge, eyes narrowed. Her stomach twisted this way and that, and she felt a spike of resentment towards District Five for saddling her off to the Hunger Games with that monster as her partner. If she wins, she'll give them hell for doing that to her. 

“Are you okay?” 

Electra nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to see that it was the boy from Twelve, a half-starved thing with wide blue eyes and limp blonde hair. He was lying right at the very back, concealed by the shadows, with only his face peeking out. 

“Jesus,” Electra commented, “you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.” 

“Sorry.” The boy shuffled closer. “But what are you even doing? You've been up here for ages.” 

“Hiding.” 

“From who?” 

Electra elevated a cautious finger in Pietro’s direction. “Him.” 

“Why?” 

Electra snarled in distaste. “Because he's a sick fuck who likes to prey on girls. And right now, I'm at the top of his list.” 

“Oh. Is that why he got voted into the Games?” 

“Yes. And now the stupid fucker won't stop following me around. Fuck my life.” 

The two of them fell silent for a moment. Then the boy quietly cleared his throat. 

“Um, if you don't mind me asking, why did you get voted in?” 

Electra shrugged one shoulder. “My own shit luck, I guess. What about you?” 

“I tried to set fire to the mayor’s house. He's a really horrible person.” The boy rolled onto his side and looked at Electra. “He set the Peacekeepers on a friend of mine because she tried to get food from his garden.” 

“That's no good,” Electra said idly. 

“Yeah. Her nose was all weird and lumpy because it got broken. She had trouble breathing for ages.” The boy huffs out a breath of simmering anger. “Anyway, the mayor managed to convince everyone that I was a no-good arsonist who'll only cause trouble. I mean, he's not entirely wrong about that, but I only cause trouble when it's necessary.” 

The boy fell silent for a while after that. He lay on his stomach next to Electra, following her wary gaze across the room at all the other tributes: the Careers, the drug dealers from Six, that downright terrifying beast of a boy from Ten. He shivered. “Some pretty scary tributes this year, eh?” 

Electra hummed in agreement. 

“We'd probably have a better chance at taking them out if we, uh, teamed up.” The boy looked over hopefully as Electra glanced at him from the corner of her narrowed eye. 

“Do you at least know how to throw a punch?” 

He nodded eagerly. “We get into a lot of fights at the Community Home.” 

Electra breathed out through her nose. “Well, all right, then. I guess I've got nothing to lose if I have someone with me.” 

They each extended a hand and shook on it. 

“So, what's your name?” the boy asked. 

“Electra.” 

“Nice. I'm Ash.” 

~*~ 

For the last day of training, Electra and Ash stuck together. They did their mandatory exercises, then retreated to the top of the climbing wall. They stayed up there for hours. It was a small relief that no one ordered them to come back down. 

The privacy and the bird’s-eye view was nice. It made them feel protected from the others. It made them feel better, if only a little bit. 

But unfortunately, that had to end. Private sessions began and, much to Electra’s dislike, she had to sit next to Pietro. Twice he tried to slip his hand somewhere he shouldn't, and both times she elbowed him sharply. She scooted away from him, so much so that she was practically in the lap of the boy from Four, who looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. Ash leaned out from his seat to watch Pietro, making sure he wouldn't try anything else. 

He did. Right when Electra turned her head, he reached over and tried to grab her breasts. 

Electra gasped loud enough to catch Ash’s attention, who immediately waved at the Peacekeepers standing guard at the back of the room. “Hey, he's assaulting her!” he called to them. The Peacekeepers couldn't ignore it any longer, and were over there in a flash. 

One of them jabbed Pietro’s shoulder with his rifle. “You. Get up.” 

Pietro obeyed. He was many things, but rebellious against Peacekeepers was not one of them. He let himself be led over to another seat away from Electra, and didn't dare say anything when one of them stood by him, watching him. 

When Electra was finally called into the next room, her chest relieved itself of the tension she didn't even realise was there. 

She spent the next fifteen minutes diligently showing off whatever skills she had learned: knot-tying, fire-starting, plant identification, and of course, scaling the climbing wall with ease. 

She left for her floor when she was finished and immediately locked herself in her room. Almost instantly, Mara knocked on her door. 

“Electra? Are you okay?” 

“Just peachy,” came Electra’s gruff voice from the other side. 

“How did your private session go?” 

“Fine.” 

Mara paused. “Did Pietro try anything again?” 

“Of course he did. He always does.” 

And that was that. Electra refused to divulge any more information on the subject. 

She didn't come out of her too for the rest of the night. She watched the score reveals on the television in her room. She watched impassively as she got a five, Pietro a six and Ash a three. She ordered dinner herself and ate separately from the others. 

And she barely slept at all that night. She was too wound-up and anxious to do so. 

Fuck Pietro. Fuck that bastard.


	3. Chapter 3

The stylist and her team dolled Electra up nice and pretty. Nice and pretty with a little edge to it. 

They teased her curls and elevated them to newer, bouncier heights, then let them cascade about her shoulders. They very gently combed through little specks of black glitter, giving her hair an ominous shine. 

Then they had her step into her dress. A black lace one. Clearly they had taken note of what she wore at the reaping. This dress was much fancier than that one, however. The arms and shoulders were bare except for lace, which had a flower pattern in it. Starting at her bust, she was cloaked in black cloth which fitted tightly around her torso and draped loosely around her legs. There was a high slit in one side, and her leg on that side wore a thigh-high black lace stocking. To complete the outfit, she was given a pair of shiny black ankle-high boots. 

Electra slowly spun around in the mirror when asked, mentally trying to block out the excited squeals of her prep team. She had to admit - it was a nice dress. Black was her favourite colour and she was secretly quite fond of lace. She allowed herself a rare smile. Although she wouldn't dare say it out loud, she loved how grown-up she looked. She would wear this all the time if she could. 

Her prep team wasn't done yet. They brushed makeup over her cheeks, applied black lipstick and mascara, then added a black rose-shaped pin to her hair, and her ensemble was complete. 

Her prep team gushed over her: “Oh, you're so gorgeous!” “You would win every beauty contest!” “We've never had a tribute even half as pretty as you!” 

Hearing their compliments made Electra’s stomach drop. If she was as beautiful as they say, then Pietro would undoubtedly find her attractive as well. But alas, she couldn't do anything about that. If her prep team wanted her to be gorgeous, then gorgeous she must me. 

As she found herself being escorted to the wings of the stage, she desperately prayed that that slimy good-for-nothing grease all would keep his hands to himself. 

Of course he didn't. 

His hands lightly grasped her waist and she felt hot breath on her ear. “Wanna have some fun with me later?” 

Electra shuddered. “I'd rather stick a fork in my eye,” she told him curtly before prying his fingers off of her. 

Pietro pouted. “Aw, come on. Don't be like that. I know you want me.” He grinned menacingly and flexed his arm. “All the girls want me.” 

Electra frowned hard. “Then how do you explain all the girls who came forward saying you raped them?” 

Pietro rolled his eyes dramatically. “They don't know what they're talking about. Of course I didn't rape them! They're just a bunch of silly girls.” 

“You make me sick. You fucking asshole.” Electra spat. 

Pietro only smiled at her. “You don't know what you're talking about either, do you?” 

Electra was right about to deck him when suddenly the national anthem blared out of hidden speakers and Atticus Wolffe walked out on stage, smiling and waving at the screaming crowd. He gave the same speech that he gives every year before calling for the girl from One to join him onstage. 

“She's gorgeous,” Pietro said, staring hungrily at the girl’s short dress and long bare legs. 

“Shut up,” Electra said. 

Pietro nudged her with his elbow. “You jealous? Well, don't worry. You can have the one thing she doesn't: me.” 

Electra gagged dramatically, loud enough that when she turned around to smack the shit out of him, she found the whole line of tributes staring at her. Without hesitation, Ash rushed to her side. 

“You leave her alone!” He puffed out his chest and stared daggers at Pietro. Pietro only laughed. 

“You're no match for me, small fry,” he chuckled. “I've dealt with grown-ups wimpier than you. Now scram.” He swung his foot out. It collided with Ash’s shin and he howled in pain. 

Immediately a Peacekeeper standing guard marched over. “You,” he said, nudging Ash with the barrel of his rifle, “get back in line. And you,” he turned to Pietro, “you have plenty of time to cause trouble tomorrow in the arena. But right now, you're not in the arena, are you? If you set one more toe out of line, I'll make you regret it. Understand?” 

“Yes.” Pietro responded simply. 

If they weren't a whole bunch of bastards, Electra would be grateful for the Peacekeepers. They kept Pietro from trying to do anything to her, after all. 

Still though, it was hard to shake the sensation of Pietro burning holes into the back of her head. He was going to go for her tomorrow. She just knew it. She would have to keep her wits about her. In the arena, practically anything goes. The audience probably wouldn't be deterred by rape. There was nothing preventing him from doing that to her. 

At least there was nothing preventing her from killing him. Gruesomely, too. 

As the tributes in front of her stepped up for their interviews, Electra gleefully daydreamed about killing Pietro: slicing him up, decapitating him with one swing of an axe, castrating him with a rusty sickle, throwing him down a bottomless pit… 

But then a stage worker was ushering her up and she found herself in front of everybody. Atticus loudly and warmly welcomed her onstage as they both sat down in those familiar white leather chairs. 

“Hello Electra! I hope you're ready for tomorrow!” 

Electra shrugged. “Ready as I'll ever be,” she said coolly. 

Atticus laughed as if it were a joke. “Oh, don't worry! I'm sure you'll put on a great show in the arena! Anyway, what's been your favourite part of your visit here so far?” 

Electra looked down at herself. She only had one answer, really. 

“This dress,” she said, smoothing out the fabric, “I'd wear it forever if I could.” 

Atticus raised his eyebrows. “ It really is a beautiful dress. In that case, I think your preparation team deserves a round of applause!” 

The crowd did so accordingly. A few rows back from the front, Electra’s prep team giggled and blushed with giddy excitement. 

When the claps quietened down, Atticus turned back to Electra. “Now, I want to ask you about what went down between you and your district partner on the chariot a few nights ago. As I'm sure you're aware, everyone got quite a fright when he fell off!” 

Electra leaned back in her chair and fixed Atticus with one of her famously cold stares. “Because he's a disgusting piece of shit who thinks that just because I'm pretty, that he deserves me.” 

The stage area fell silent for a few moments. Atticus looked at her, surprised, then he spoke again: “Really?” 

“Dub. Why do you think he got voted in?” Electra rolled her eyes. Fucking Capitolites. Do they need everything spelled out for them? “He's a monster. If he even so much as thinks about trying to rape me, I'll gouge his eyes out and shove them up his ass.” 

Atticus’s eyebrows shot straight up, disappearing into his hairline. “Really?” he said again. “He's that bad?” 

“Yes,” Electra said, firmer and harsher this time, “he honestly deserves to die. He makes me sick. In fact, he should just save me the trouble and jump on the mines tomorrow. No one'll miss him. Not even his own mother loved him! She killed herself, you know. She probably did it because she was so ashamed of having him for a son. He's truly despicable. I have no fucking idea how he keeps getting away with it, but he does. And the worst part is that he genuinely believes that he's doing nothing wrong! He's horrible and stupid! Literally the worst possible combination of personality traits…!” 

And then Electra went off, ranting and raving about her abhorrent district partner until her buzzer rang out and Atticus had to slap his hand over her mouth to get her to stop talking. “Alright, we get the picture,” he said shakily as he led her off the stage, “goodnight, and good luck for tomorrow, Electra!” 

Electra didn't stop to see Pietro’s interview. She stomped her way back inside the building, to the elevator, then across the apartment and into her bedroom without laying her eyes on a single television screen. She took off her beautiful dress and threw herself into bed, pulling the covers tightly over her. 

She lay in that position for hours, not moving once. Not when the doorknob slowly turned and squeaked. Not when Isaac’s voice rose up from the darkness outside her door, telling Pietro sharply to go away. Not when the Six tributes started having a violent argument one floor above her. And not when Peacekeepers marched in to break it up. 

She only stirred when her prep team arrived to ready her for the arena. 

She had breakfast in her room. And when the time came to board the hovercraft, she stood as far away from Pietro as she could possibly manage. 

The ride through the air was filled with her thoughts. Thoughts of death, survival, hope and Ash. 

Speaking of Ash, he hadn't looked at her once today. His head was continuously bowed in what was either worry or motion sickness. Probably both. 

The hovercraft landed. She was ushered off and escorted down a cold, bright hallway and into a tiny room. Her stylist was already in there, holding her jacket with the signature plum-red colour of District Five’s tributes. 

“Was it true what you said last night?” she asked in a whisper of a voice, “in your interview? About the dress?” 

“Yes.” Electra’s voice gave away no emotion. Her face was a steel trap. “It was the best dress I've ever worn.” 

The stylist smiled shyly. 

Electra put on her jacket and stepped into her launch tube as soon as it opened. Her teeth sank themselves into her lip. She clenched her fists. 

It's showtime, she thought wryly. 

The tube door swung closed. There was no other sound except for the air rushing in and out of her nose. 

No going back now. 

Not that she ever could, but whatever. 

The tube rose up. Electra craned her head back. She was only able to see a black circle that was the end of the tube. 

But when the stagnant air of the tube was replaced by fresh, if somewhat musty air, the only thing she could see was black. 

The clicking of her launch plays confirmed what she hoped wasn't true: the arena was in total darkness. Complete, utter, unending darkness. She couldn't even see her own hand in front of her face. 

Brilliant. 

How the fuck was she supposed to survive the Games now?


	4. Chapter 4

Electra couldn't see anything. Not even the countdown timer that was usually lit up pretty brightly. At least she could still hear the automated voice counting down the seconds. It was already at thirty. Fuck. 

From the blackness surrounding her, she could make out worried murmurs and quiet sobbing. Electra knew she didn't have time for that. She needed to stay focused on-- 

An explosion rocked the arena. Then came the screaming. Then there was another explosion. More screaming. Someone was shouting, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” over and over again. 

Someone must have fallen to the mines. At least that was two opponents down. Twenty-one more to go. 

Over all the commotion, the automated voice began the final countdown: ten, nine, eight… 

Electra crouched down. Since she couldn't see, she figured the next best thing to do was feel her way along the ground. She really didn't know what else she could do. She didn't even know what kind of arena this was. It could be an underground one, or maybe the Gamemakers just decided it would be more interesting to make it permanently nighttime. She never knew the night sky could be so dark. 

Three… 

Two… 

One… 

As soon as the gong sounded, Electra launched herself forward onto the ground and immediately felt something hard and lumpy under her leg. She felt around for it and grabbed hold of it. Whatever it was, it seemed to be made out of metal and had two circular protrusions on one side. Then her fingers felt a strap and she realised what they must be. 

Night-vision goggles. 

Electra didn't waste a second in putting them on - with difficulty - and flicking on the tiny switch that brought the goggles to life. Immediately, she could see everything through a sickly shade of green. Her chest heaved in relief… but she wasn't out of the woods just yet. 

From what it seemed, only four other tributes had managed to put on their goggles, which had been placed by everyone's pedestal. The others either didn't know they were there, or, in the case of the boys from Seven and Eight and the girl from Four, had accidentally broken theirs. The others were running around completely blind, with their hands out to feel their way along. They'd bump into another, who may or may not have managed to secure a weapon, and then blood would be spilt. 

Time to go. 

Electra was incredibly thankful that she hadn't broken her goggles when she saw the boy from Eight run right into a girl’s knife. She zipped and weaved her way through the helpless tributes, snagging two packs on the way. She was about to reach for a spear lying on the ground when she caught sight of Ash about to walk right into a fight between the tributes from Eleven. 

“Ash!” she yelled. 

Ash froze. “Electra?” he called, uncertain. “Where are you?” 

“Stay where you are! I'll come get you!” Electra dodged the Six girl being thrown to the ground and stomped on by one of the Careers. Slinging both packs around her shoulders, she abandoned all attempts at retrieving a weapon and made a beeline straight for Ash. She grabbed onto his shoulder and started dragging him towards one of the many tunnels leading away from the cornucopia. 

“Electra?” 

“Keep moving,” she said gruffly. Their feet pounded down the tunnel to the beats of their racing hearts. Electra threw her head back multiple times to check behind them. No one followed. 

They ran for ages, then slowed to a jog, then a walk before stopping. By now, the commotion from the bloodbath was no longer audible. Indeed, there was very little sound coming from around them. 

“I think we’re safe now,” Electra said sitting on the rocky ground. 

“How did you know where to go to find me?” Ash was puzzled. 

“Night-vision goggles.” 

“Aw, how come you got some and I didn't?” 

“They were right by your pedestal. I'm surprised you didn't trip over them.” Electra shrugged. 

“Can I have a turn?” 

“Later.” 

“Aw, fine.” Ash sat down and leaned against the jagged wall. “Ow, this is really uncomfortable. So anyway, what can you see? What does the arena look like?” 

Electra hadn't really paid much mind to the arena until now. She looked around her. They were in a rocky tunnel. No end to it as far as she could see. Dotted at regular intervals were what looked like wooden support beams of some kind. The air, while breathable, was a little hazy. 

“I think we're in a mineshaft,” she said quietly. “Or some kind of cave, at least.” 

Ash grumbled. “Well, it sucks. Why couldn't it have been like last years?” 

“You'd rather risk dying in a volcanic eruption?” 

Ash shrugged one shoulder. “At least you could see.” He drew his knees up under his chin and wrapped his arms around them. “And at least it would have been warm.” 

“Fair point.” 

The two sat in near silence for a while, as they caught their breaths and tried to let their brains catch up from the big adrenaline rush they had just had. All around them, the only other sound was water dripping at regular intervals from somewhere nearby. There was no sign that anyone else had come this way, or was currently heading towards them. 

That didn't mean they were safe, however. Years of having to watch the Games had taught Electra that lowering your guard was a good way to get blindsided. 

“So,” Ash said into the darkness, “did you get anything from the cornucopia?” 

“I managed to get two backpacks,” Electra responded. 

“What's in them?” 

“Hang on. Let me have a look.” Electra pulled them closer to her and unzipped the first one. “This one’s got some matches, wire, sandwiches and a bottle.” 

“A bottle of what?” 

“I think it's a water bottle. It's empty, anyhow.” Electra turned her attention to the second pack. “In here, there's some jerky and crackers, more matches, a sleeping bag and some iodine, I think that is?” 

Ash stared in the direction of her voice. “Why do we have so many matches? It's not like we have anything to burn down here.” 

Electra shrugged. “Who knows. Anyway, we better keep moving. We need to find somewhere safer.” 

“Can I have a turn with the goggles now?” 

Electra reluctantly handed them over, if only so he wouldn't bug her about them again.

~*~ 

That night, as they settled down in a little nook they found in the wall, the Capitol anthem blared from tiny speakers hidden in the rock. What followed, instead of faces in the sky, was a robotic voice listing the names and districts of the dead. The boys from Three, Seven, and Eight; the girls from Four, Six and Nine; both from Eleven. 

So Pietro, that bastard, was still alive and kicking. How wonderful that was. 

“I'm taking the first watch,” Electra said. She picked up a rock twice the size of her fist and held it with a grim determination. Ash simply bade her goodnight before getting as comfortable as he could. He was out cold before Electra could even blink. 

Then Electra was alone with her thoughts of slamming the rock into Pietro’s stupid skull over and over again and listening him squeal for mercy like a little piglet. Like the animal that he was. Now that would be a great note to end the night on. 

Electra couldn't stop grinning at the thought of finally getting payback on her tormentor, even when Ash took over for her and she went to sleep.

~*~ 

The second and third days dragged by uneventfully as Electra and Ash explored further in the mineshaft. They discovered a set of rails with a few empty minecarts, but nothing else of note. They didn't see anyone else all day. No deaths either, save for the boy from Ten. 

But the fourth day was one of the worst days of Electra’s life. 

She and Ash had simply been walking along one of the tunnels when they reached an intersection of sorts, with many tunnels branching off in different directions. Electra, who had been the one wearing the night-vision goggles, was describing the scene to Ash when three separate voices boomed in her ear. Three Careers emerged from one tunnel, grinning from ear to ear at their lucky find. 

“Shit…” Electra whispered. 

“Is that the Careers?” Ash’s voice was high with panic. 

“Sure is, pipsqueak!” the boy from One bellowed adjusting his grip on his axe. His district partner and the boy from Two quickly moved to circle the pair. 

“They're surrounding us,” Electra cautioned, taking a step back. “Stick close to me, okay?” 

She really wished she'd been able to grasp a weapon during the bloodbath. As things were standing right now, they were open and exposed. Their lives were ripe for the picking. 

She grit her teeth. She was going to need some speed, and some luck, to be able to get both her and Ash out alive. 

Keeping her eyes on all the Careers and her head on a constant swivel, she grasped Ash’s hand and took a deep breath. On the count of three. 

One. 

The One boy stalked towards them, brandishing his axe. 

Two. 

The two others had their weapons at the ready. 

Three. 

It was now or never. 

Right as they closed in, Electra tightened her grip on Ash’s hand and threw herself to the side, missing the arc of the axe by a few centimeters. The blade hit the rock with a loud metallic twang. The boy cursed. 

Electra wasted no time in barreling right into the One girl, who had been momentarily distracted by the axe. She was knocked to the ground. Right behind her, a tunnel opened up with no obstacles. They were going to make it! 

Electra’s breath caught in her throat when she felt Ash’s hand yank free from hers. 

She spun around to see that the Two boy had gotten a hold of Ash, who was kicking and yelling. 

“Ash!” she cried. 

“Electra! Help me! Hel-” Ash never got to finish his sentence. The Two boy sunk a dagger into Ash’s chest and dropped him to the ground, where he lay twitching for a few seconds until his cannon fired. 

“NO!!!” Electra screamed louder than she ever had before. She wanted to rip all the Careers’ throats out right then and there, but the way they leered at her as they reached for their weapons told her otherwise. She was hopelessly outnumbered. It was safer just to scram for now. 

And that's exactly what she did. She fled down the tunnel, pumping her legs until her bones ached. Turning down tunnel after tunnel, trying to lose her pursuers. Those fucking Careers just wouldn't give up. 

Through her night-vision goggles, she watched the rocky walls fly past her. She made a sharp right turn followed by a sharp left turn, then straight ahead until she made another right turn. 

She found herself back at the cornucopia, glowing green through her goggles. Shit! The Careers’ turf was precisely the last place she wanted to be. 

But as she looked over the numerous tunnels branching off from the cornucopia, she realised that ending up back here was a blessing in disguise. She could pick any of the tunnels and the Careers would have no way of knowing which one it was! 

A slow, grateful grin spread across her face as she jogged over to one on the far side of the room. She stopped in her tracks as she spied the supplies lying at the cornucopia’s mouth. 

Alright, time for a very quick detour. 

Electra made her way over and immediately took several knives and hastily secured them in her trouser waistband, then grabbed a spear and a pack before turning on her heel and leaving. Her heart pounded all the while. 

She couldn't help feeling smug. Those foolish Careers. They hadn't bothered leaving a guard. Lucky for her, though. 

She was well into the tunnel when the Careers arrived, furious that they were unable to find her.

~*~ 

Electra wandered through the tunnels numbly, mindlessly meandering up and down and all around. What was she supposed to do now? Without someone around to suggest ideas, or to at least talk to, she may as well have been adrift at sea. 

There was nothing to do. No action. Nowhere interesting to explore. That's something most people don't realise about the Hunger Games. They're so fucking boring. 

She missed Ash terribly. She could have used one of his annoying quips and questions so that she wouldn't feel so empty. Maybe it had only been for a few days and didn't really count as a real relationship, but he was like a little brother to her. 

They had been so close to both of them making it out alive. If it wasn't for that fucking Two boy… 

Electra was going to kill him if she saw him again. That fucker- 

Something leapt out at her from the shadows. 

She was pinned to the ground by another person's body. Looking up into their face, she realised it was the girl from Eight. 

Bitch. 

Electra shot her hand up, grabbed a handful of her hair, then yanked hard. The bitch hissed in pain as Electra sat up with a surge of adrenaline and threw her off of her. Her head hit the wall hard. 

Electra wasted no time in standing up but before she could grab the spear, the bitch got to it first and jabbed her in the leg with it. Hard. Electra recoiled in pain as the girl got to her knees. 

Then Electra kicked the spear out of her hands, sending it skidding across the ground. She brought her knee up into the bitch’s jaw. Her teeth slammed together with a twang. 

Electra threw herself onto her and grasped her head with both hands. She reared back briefly, then threw forward. The bitch’s head slammed into the ground, but before she could even cry out in pain, Electra did it again. 

And again. 

And again. 

By the time she was finished, the back of the bitch’s head had caved in, leaving blood and brain matter to pool around her. Electra’s lip curled downwards in disgust. 

She had blood on her hands and it was all slimy and gross. 

But at least she didn't die. 

And at least that was one more opponent down.

~*~ 

The sixth and seventh days passed with no incident. Yet another two slow, boring, deathless days. 

But on the eighth day, Electra encountered the one person she'd been hoping she wouldn't. 

They ran into each other at a spot where the tunnel vended into a corner, so they couldn't see the other until it was too late. 

Electra jerked back immediately, staring into Pietro’s hideous face, partially covered by his night-vision goggles. It couldn't cover up the leer he made when he realised who he had just bumped into. 

“Well, hello there,” he said lowly, “we meet again!”

Electra grimaced. She tightened her grip on her spear and brought it up to chest level, ready to stab this fucker right in the heart if he tried anything. 

Pietro’s smug grin grew wider. “Now come on. Be reasonable. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Sure.” Electra rolled her eyes. 

“I just wanna have a little fun with you.”

“Fat chance,” Electra snorted. “I’d rather be skinned and gutted by the Careers.” 

Pietro sighed as if he was a frustrated parent trying to discipline their child. “You’re being incredibly rude, you know.”

“Am I just?”

“Yes.” Pietro’s smirk dropped suddenly off his face. “All this time, I’ve been nothing but nice to you, and this is how you thank me? By pointing a spear at my chest and threatening to kill me? Just for asking a small favour of you? You’re so pretty, don’t you understand that? Any guy would be lucky to have you. I come to you with open arms and you spit in my face. What’s the matter with you? How could you turn down such an offer? How could you reject me so cruelly?”

He stalked towards Electra, hands balled into fists, voice rising quickly and menacingly. Electra’s earlier sarcasm dissipated as her hands began to shake. 

“I know your type very well. You sit there on your high horse and look down on me for getting some action? Meanwhile you’ve never even had a boyfriend. You have no right to judge me! I bet you’re just scared. You’re scared because any man you have after me won’t even be half as good as me! You’re scared and you’re unfairly taking it out on me! After I was so nice to you! This always fucking happens! A girl shows herself off to me, tells me she wants me, flirts with me, but then she turns around and says I took advantage of her! I hoped you’d be different, but you’re just the same! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but you won’t even put out! You’re so selfish; don’t you think I deserve someone like you? Well, after today, you’ll see! _You’ll see how wrong you were about me!”_

By the last sentence, Pietro was screaming at her, strings of spit flying from his mouth. 

_Oh my fucking god,_ Electra thought. _He’s fucking delusional. I’m so fucked. He’s gonna fuck me up. Fuck my life._

As Pietro strided towards her, maliciousness in every step, Electra thrust the spear at him. He dodged to the side, the tip barely grazing his chest. He grabbed hold of it and yanked it right out of Electra’s hands. 

Electra’s stomach dropped. 

Pietro bared his teeth at her and growled, “Seriously, bitch? You think you can just kill me? You fucking frigid cunt, I’ll show you how to respect a man!”

He threw the spear to the side and took Electra’s head in both hands. Before Electra could wrestle her way out of it, he threw her to the ground, as carelessly as he had the spear. The contact with the rock made Electra’s go a little blurry, and it wasn’t the night-vision goggles. 

Electra stretched her arms out behind her, attempting to crawl away, but Pietro was on her again. He picked her up by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall. When she fell back, he stood her up and did it again. And again. 

The glass of her goggles smashed, rendering them almost completely useless. She couldn’t see him continue his assault on her. She felt it, though. All three wall slams, followed by a fourth one. Her fingernails broke. Her skin split. Her head felt lighter and emptier. Blood poured from the multiple wounds her body had sustained. She could taste blood on her tongue. 

She tried to reach for the knives in her waistband but her fingers were barely functioning. Her whole body began to shake. She felt as if she would pass out at any moment. 

The end was coming, she knew. What a fucking shitty way to die: at the hands of a rapist who had finally lost his cool…

Her final thought before the world slipped into blackness, as Pietro picked her up for one final wall slam, was: _I fucking hate this place._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! It's me!
> 
> Yes, I know, I left the story on a cliffhanger because I love torturing you all, lol.
> 
> Anyway, I have some news: I'm on discord! In fact, this whole series has a channel! I am moon_unit#2685. If you go onto the SYOT server and scroll down, you'll find the channel titled 23-faces-verse. And that's my channel! Hope to see you there!


	5. Chapter 5

That was where Electra’s memory of the Games ended. 

Well, she knows what happened - after all, it’s often considered one of the top ten best Hunger Games comebacks - but she has no recollection of any of it. Absolutely zero. 

If she were to get her copy of the tape and play it right now, she knew exactly what she would see. But she just can’t remember it as it happened, and she’s a little disappointed about that. 

Still though, she takes comfort in the fact that the big gap in her memory is filled. 

It’s been decades since then. The war is over, and so are the Hunger Games. Hope was on the horizon. Getting any sort of enjoyment out of the Games whatsoever was considered disgusting and sadistic. 

But for fuck’s sake, can’t Electra just have this? 

Her humongous house in the Victor’s Village had survived, thankfully. Everything inside it was just as Electra had left it when she heard the news of the purge from Porter - chair tipped over, half-eaten sandwich turning moldy on the plate, dishes still in the sink. A scene of a sudden, unplanned departure. 

She was glad to be back home. Sure, joining the rebellion effort in Five was a worthy use of her time, but now that it was all over she just wanted to be in the familiar environment of her own home. 

The Victor’s Village was dead silent. Everyone else had taken premature trips to the afterlife. Mara and Isaac were probably galavanting together in heaven somewhere, having passed peacefully in their sleep a few years back. Bradie and Billie in the Hunger Games that they had once survived, once upon a time. Porter died in the dam attack. That had been a particularly brutal night. Electra had barely survived herself. 

Electra had no more noisy, annoying neighbours. She was now the last of Five’s Victors. 

She didn’t let herself cry. There was no need to. Everyone up in heaven knew that she was sad for them. 

Instead, she sat herself down in front of her television and switched it on. 

She skipped past the reapings, parade, scoring and interviews. She’d seen them all a million times. 

She fast-forwarded the bloodbath, the next few days, and Ash’s death. It all hurt to look at, even fifty years later. Ash would have been sixty-three by now. He might have had children and even grandchildren. He would have had a good life. 

She even skipped the death of the girl from Eight. That’s not what she was here to watch. 

Finally, she stopped, and let the tape play as normal. Electra saw herself on screen, slumped against the wall, blood coursing all over her head and body. She lay completely still, save for the occasional twitch. It looked as if she was done for. 

Pietro stood over her, panting heavily. In the green glow of the night-vision setting of the cameras, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. 

Especially when he began to smirk again. He undid his belt and the top few buttons on his trousers, panting louder. This whole thing excited him. It was fucking sick. Electra still wanted to beat his ass. 

Pietro kneeled down and tugged at Electra’s belt. 

One second, Electra was as still as a statue. 

The next, a knife was sunk into the back of Pietro’s neck. 

Electra was bolt upright now, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, a wild, angry glare in her eyes. With bloody, fumbling fingers, she yanked the knife out and plunged it back in again. Pietro’s cannon sounded but Electra wasn’t done yet. 

She flipped the body over and hacked away at his face and genitals in an adrenaline-fuelled rage. Blood spattered all over the walls and ground and everything else around. Electra screamed at him, all sorts of insults that Pietro could no longer rebuke. Because he was dead. He couldn’t defend himself. He was at Electra’s mercy. Just like how all of his victims had been at his mercy. 

There was no one around to stop the assault on his remains. Not that anyone would have stopped it. 

By the time Electra was done, it wasn’t even recognizable as a body anymore. As she stormed off, the cameras zoomed in on the mess. It was nothing more than a pile of gore. Her rage had taken its toll. 

The clip had gone viral on the internet. “Girl Power!” was a common tagline. Others included, “Don’t Fuck Around With Girls!”, “Electra Is My Idol!”, and “This Is What Happens When You Try and Take Advantage of Us. Take Note, Boys.”

District Five was relieved. Finally, that sick bastard could no longer rape anyone. In the end, it had been him who got fucked. All the girls of Five got to have the last laugh. 

And District Five was even happier two days later when Electra, still in an uncontrollable storm of rage, took down the remaining two tributes and was declared the Victor. 

The doctors were confused as to how she could keep on fighting after being slammed against a rock wall several times, but they chalked it up to adrenaline and an impenetrable iron will. Their injury report noted that she was lucky to be alive. Head injuries don’t tend to go over well for most people. The most Electra had been inflicted with was a concussion severe enough to cause memory loss. But instead of having trouble remembering things that had happened before Pietro’s attack on her, she had no memory of anything for a month after. Her mind simply didn’t record anything that had happened. It was just a big gap through which the wind whistled. 

But the tape was there for her to watch. Mara and Isaac were there to tell her about the little details. 

Apparently, Electra threw up during her crowning. She called her stylist a “pig-headed son of a bitch”. She smashed a window by throwing a vase at it while in the midst of a nightmare. When she arrived back in Five, she had apparently screamed insults to the crowds waiting to congratulate her. _I don’t want your thanks,_ she said. _You fuckers voted me in for the Hunger Games! Go fuck yourselves!_

Even if she couldn’t remember doing that, she still felt the sense of betrayal. _They sent me into the Games with a rapist for a district partner, then when I come back they act like they did nothing wrong? Fuck that!_

It had been fifty years since then. Electra was still angry, but she was even angrier at the Capitol when rebellion broke out and they sent waves of Peacekeepers in retaliation. They could just fuck off. Only she was allowed to terrorise her district! 

She’d survived the Victor’s Purge by hiding out with Porter and a small band of rebels that quickly expanded into an even bigger band. They’d attacked the dam. Porter died. The only tribute she’d ever mentored to victory had died. It wouldn’t have happened if the Capitol had just left them all alone. Those fucking fucks. 

But it was all over now. The Capitol was under new leadership. No more Hunger Games. No more fearing for her life. Electra could finally settle down. She could relax. 

The Mockingjay was coming. She wanted to visit all the remaining Victors. To help gain some sort of closure for the both of them, Electra supposed. After all, Katniss and Peeta started the war. Electra had a part in ending it. The whole world had been turned upside down once more. Victors were a dying breed. They would want to stick together. 

But the famous couple wouldn’t be arriving for a few more days. Electra had those days to herself. After all she’d been through, she deserved some peace and quiet. 

And some happiness. 

Electra rewound the tape and smiled as she listened to Pietro scream in pain. She would never not enjoy this, even when it was socially unacceptable. Even if she lost her memory again. Even in the throes of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading everyone!


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